


Children of Darkness

by Zommbro



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cicero - Freeform, Dragonborn - Freeform, Dragons, Lust, NSFW, Other, Romance, Smut, Transmale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zommbro/pseuds/Zommbro
Summary: The dragonborn has a lot on their mind, and in their hands- as they are constantly thrown into situations they often times aren't sure they can handle. One in particular is- when your loved one dies- they are no more. You can't hold them, love them, or see them in the way you once could. Nil is the Listener, but he's also only mortal- Knowing his partner in assassination could one day vanish without there ever being a glimmer he was once here- he intends to make the most of his time with him.Even if it means crawling through hell to keep him alive.[Warning: Very Smutty Story]





	Children of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the wonderful roamingroveon for being my Beta!

The wood elf hissed as he dug the fragmented shard from his arm, the blood pooling around his fingers in a deep shade of crimson, as deep as his hair. Magenta eyes gazed over the wound as he tossed the vile object that had been so insistent in digging into his skin.

Another heavy sigh, and he reached into the open wound to dig out the last fragmented piece- another irritated growl leaving his lips.

“Fuck! For the wrath of Sithis, I should have made that bastard suffer for all the damned pain he put me through!” the elf barked, giving up the attempted removal of the object.  
Sitting on the soft furs of the bed he'd recently obtained through remodeling, VIA the thieves guild, the elf watched as small driblets of blood slid down his forearm and onto the cobblestone floor. The air was so quiet, each small pebble of blood echoed like deafening drum.

“Nil? Listener! Dear Mother has to have another contract for you! Dear listener? You simply must come now!” and there went the silence…

Nil brought a gloved hand to his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

'Damn it Cicero…. Can't he see I'm busy recovering from my last assassination? The void can wait for another soul to reach its depths, damn it!' Nil growled under heated breath.

Turning the corner, the flamboyant jester spotted his companion sitting on the edge of his bed- top missing- save for a ratty tunic with the sleeves torn off. Honey eyes danced over his assassination partner a moment, before that classy grin he always wore snuck up over his lips. So of course, he bound over to his partner, and squatted down to look at the damage.

“Oh! That's quite the nasty cut you have my dear listener! You should probably wrap that up- lest the Dread-Father welcome you to the Void a bit sooner than intended!” he laughed, closing his eyes as he did so.

“Oh really? I had no idea- thank you for your incredible insight Cicero!” Nil stated sarcastically, the pain throbbing in his hand- and fuck did it hurt.

“Hmm, Cicero detects a hint of false words behind your lips listener…. What's troubling you? Oh! Does it involve something that needs to be maimed? Stabbed? Tortured? Oh, the possibilities are endless!” he chuckled again.

“Damn it Cicero, I don't have time for this...” Nil winced as he went to shove the other away, but ended up clasping the arm in pain.

Immediately Cicero's eyes darted to the wound, his face remaining cheerful, but his eyes retaining his true thoughts. Nothing of worry, but more calculation. He was running the numbers of what to do in his head, and musing possible outcomes and plans. Most would consider the jester a harmless fool- but then again…

That's what got most people killed- for most forgot that Cicero was also a deadly child of Sithis.

Without warning, Cicero removed his left glove, and took the other’s hand in his right. Digging his fingers inside the wound, making the elf growl in pain- as beads of sweat laced his brow and lip, leaving no room to lash out in pain.

When the Jester’s slender fingers found the intrusive object, her grasped it firmly between index and thumb, and turned it slightly, before sliding it out with ease, “There we are Listener…. Cicero is kind and merciful… he wouldn't let his Mother's Child suffer now… we are all we have, after all.,”

Nil looked to the ground.

Why was Cicero always like that? Sure- the other knew the story behind his insanity… but wouldn't that cause a person to turn another away? Especially when the person he took care of so diligently would outlive him?

Come to think of it… Cicero had to be in his early thirties at youngest- and… how long did an Imperial live? Most humans lived to be about a hundred or so years… but in his line of work it wasn't uncommon to die an early death.

Cicero took note of the constant furrowing of his partner’s brow, and raised his own brow in questioning, “Hmm? Is something the matter, Listener?”

The man took off his hat and stood a moment, gathering a few sewing supplies- needles, stitching thread, bandages, and ointment- before returning to his spot in front of the Listener., Tthe Keeper missed a beat of a person’s behavior- another deadly trait.

“It's nothing Cicero, just musing about how short your life is- you and the rest of the humans in the Brotherhood...” Nil closed his eyes as the Jester began to take needle and thread, and lace them through the open skin, closing the wound. Save for some small sounds of discomfort, he was silent.

“Oh sweet, and merciful Listener… Cicero's life is short, as are most our brothers and sisters’…. But-! Our lives are not meaningless! We serve our Mother and Father in a most interesting fashion, and though we do take lives- our Mother and Father will forever take ours… allowing us to walk amongst the living once more when we finally depart from this world! Don't you see? It will only be the beginning, when we end!” and with that he finished his stitching, tying off the thread, and letting out a devious chuckle.

“…When you die… I'm asking Mother for your soul- you are not allowed to leave me until I am dead as well,” he growled, rubbing the tender flesh from the new thread in his arm.

Cicero paused, his eyes narrowing as he took the time to finish wrapping the other’s arm, pulling it away a moment, and wrapping the bandage carefully, "Why's this, Listener? Has Cicero wormed his way into that steely heart? Oh! But then again.... Cicero must have wormed his way in long ago! You spared poor, poor Cicero didn't you?"

Nil tugged his arm away and lay back on the furs of his bed, covering his eyes with his left hand, the pounding from the injured spot beating against his eyelids. By Sithis, this man was unbearable at times... so embarrassing, and crude...

But... he did listen... and he did believe in laws... something most members of the OLD guild couldn't respect.

"Because I would be sad without you," Nil spoke a bit softer.

There was an odd bit of silence, and the two remained a mere few feet away. Neither moving. Neither speaking. The moments began to feel like hours before shuffling was heard, and then a tuft of marigold hair came into view, Cicero's eyes peering behind it. 

"Cicero..." the elf sighed.

"Yes, Llistener?" Cicero scooted uncomfortably closer.

"Where's your tunic..." it was more of a statement than a question.

"Cicero believed the Listener needed some company tonight, seeing as his head is fuzzy and riddled with silly worries, and thoughts! Cicero will provide body heat, and reassurance- since you seem so keen on being alone all the time, you need some after all- and in the morning you will go and see Mother!" he nodded, in almost comedic confidence.

Nil turned over, letting his head rest against one of the softer rabbit furs. Maybe.... just mayyyybeeee, if he tried REALLLLY HARD, the other would go?

More silence, and a slight shift of the bed. There was no more weight behind him- thank the gods, he'd probably lef-

"Is Listener sad?" The sudden appearance of the carrot top’s face made Nil backtrack, and fling himself backwards off the bed in surprise.

"SON OF A- Gods damn it all...!" he rubbed his skull where a lump was beginning to form, "What were you going on about?"

"Is Listener sad? Depressed? Perhaps you need Cicero to cheer you up?" he nodded.

Climbing back onto his bed, Nil felt his anger boil, "How do you intend on mak-"

He froze.

Cicero had climbed his way atop the bed and pressed his lips against the others. The heated, feverish kiss left the elf like puddy in his hands. 

Nil didn’t know how to react. His hands shook, his body trembled- the last time he’d been this vulnerable hadn’t been at all pleasant… and so with a shaky breath he pulled away, his eyes fixated on the man before him. 

“Cicero can cheer you up, and make you feel better if you let him, sweet Listener…” he purred, his lips a few inches from his partner's ear.

Nil felt the burn in his stomach, as his hands gripped the Jester’s arms, and pulled him closer. Fingers like daggers that held his frame in place, and a voice like poison as it dripped the next few words, “Hurt me… in all the right ways…”

Cicero laughed as he pressed his hand against the other’s chest and pushed them back onto the bed of furs. Immediately taking position above him. 

Lips clashed together in a desperate heat of feverish kisses. Nil tangled his fingers in Cicero’s slender fingers, and let the other take control. He was so tired of always having to be in charge… so tired of being in control, so tired of being the hero- and if it wasn’t for Cicero and the few Brotherhood members he cared about?

He’d watch it all burn.

Or he’d let Sithis take his soul.

But now wasn’t the time to think of death, nor think of angry thoughts. Now was a time he wished to feel nothing more than the pleasure of the night as it enveloped them both in a blanket of desire. He wanted to feel the other's hands over his body, and soul- and mesh what little humanity they had together.

“Cicero will harm you, but not in any way to kill or hurt you… no no no…. Cicero couldn’t hurt his poor dear Listener… not when Listener is begging for Cicero to give him sweet release… yes… a release that my sweet would want over and over again….” he chuckled darkly, his voice dipping into that dark tone it very seldom led into.

Nil loved it.

With a shiver, Nil let the other map his hands over his body. Tears in the ratted fabric left nothing to the imagination, and all the same, hid everything it needed to… 

Cicero understood his wonderful Listener. Knew his needs and wants, and understood that he would be the one to give, and the Listener to take- for the Listener was ill-equipped for such fantasies and play. Not that he minded… after all, Cicero was a humble servant and lived to please.

Stripping the fragile fabric across his own body, Cicero tossed the tunic to the floor alongside his other clothes- and then that was when the fun began. Fingers trailing down Nil’s side, down his thighs, and up to Cicero’s own thigh. 

He removed a dagger, sharp and black as ebony.

“Calm your heart listener… I hear it beating… and Cicero promised not to harm you…” he took the blade and lay the flat against the other’s stomach, sliding it up as the fabric began to tear and slice with an easy flick of his wrist, “Hehehe…. But Cicero will play…. And Cicero will indulge…”

Nil felt a lump in his throat as he swallowed it down, and let his partner work. The cool of the blade proved to be a driving factor in his slowly draining sanity. The coolness dipped over his navel, and up his ribcage, and between his small breasts- dancing lightly on the nipples as to perk them up for play. Oh yes… it was a wonderous feeling!

Cicero slid that dangerous weapon down, and laced a small cut upon the others stomach, the light trickle of red dancing down the toned muscle of the elf. Bringing up the blade to his face, his reflection could be seen in the void of the blade- and made the experience all the more enticing.

“By the gods Cicero… Just… touch me…” Nil begged, grinding his hips in an upward motion to get the other to obey.

Cicero let out a hiss as his growing erection was met with an impatient bucking of hips, and fabric- both were annoying and in the way of his play, “Calm, now… we have to…. Get all those hard to reach areas all prepared before we go and play a bit more rough~”

Pale hands slid up to the hem of Nil’s pants, tugging them down, and off to dangle over a single leg. Nil shivered as the torture continued- Cicero dipping down for a kiss before trailing small bites from his neck, to breasts- taking a bud in his mouth and swirling it in a flickering motion. Cicero had many nights of experience before he’d become the Keeper, and he intended on using it all.

Nil squirmed under his firm touches, and painful bites- the eroticism of it all, almost too much to bear. But still he endured, letting the Jester have his way for now. He’d bide his time before he had the other do exactly as he wanted.

Cicero wasn’t as dumb as the other would have thought however, his eyes looking at the expression laced over his dear’s face. With another lusty chuckle, he caressed his lover’s sides, and up to his wrists, where he looped their fingers once more. He had a plan, and Nil was going to love it.

With a simple motion, Nil’s hands were bound above his head, and tightly. A leather belt that had been cast aside to the headrest of the bed served its purpose for play, as the man laughed.

“What the hell!? Cicero…. This better not be some-” but the sentence was closed off with another needy kiss, however, now Cicero’s hands had no natural place of rest- and instead made their way to torment.

Hands caressed the small breasts of his dear lover, and teased the buds to a state of almost painful. “Damn it Cicerooooo….” Now Nil was begging.

This was what Cicero had been waiting for- and it was exciting to finally see it! The needy look of desperation as the other tried to grind into something that wasn’t there… the sound of heated breath… it was all so enticing!

“Alright Listener…. My dear sweet Nil…. I’ll give you what you desire…” and with that, he dipped his head down between his lover's thighs.

Nil felt himself twitch and churn under Cicero’s movements, and he hadn’t even started! The warm breath of him was enough to get the other wet with desire- and get his legs to clasp a bit firmer.

“Relax Listener… Cicero can’t give you what you desire if you close yourself off like this…” he ran small circles on the other’s leg with deadly fingers, as the tension began to ease in Nil’s thighs.

After a moment of assurance, Cicero dipped his head down and spread the lips of the other wide for him to see. A slick cove of heat and wet arousal met him- and the mere sound of exasperation that left Nil’s Lips was enough to make Cicero himself shudder with eager desperation.

But Cicero was patient. Oh yes! Cicero was a patient man… and all good things came to those who waited…

Slipping his tongue inside for a taste of sweet elixir, Nil’s legs clenched shut once more, and squished Cicero between them. With a grunt of disapproval, Cicero raised a hand and gave the other a hard ‘smack!’

“Ahh! What in the name of Sithis…! Cicero??!” he hissed as the other sat back and crossed his arms.

“You squished my head! You’re the one who should be apologizing!” he pouted.

For the love of… he was not going to do this now, right…? He was not going to just sit there and…

“Then again… if Listener won’t apologize… then Cicero could just… leave you high and dry couldn’t he?” he smirked devilishly, as his eyes held all the lust of brothel whore and then some.

“Keep going, Cicero! Don’t leave me like this!” he begged, his arms attempting to wrench free. His eyes never leaving Cicero- who began to pull the bridge of his pants down more.

With a sly grin he slid his hand down the front, and slicked out his cock, the thick mean of his hand sliding delicately over the tender flesh. Nil had to hold back the sigh behind his lips as he looked it over- about average in size… 5 or so inches? But the length wasn’t what got him drooling at the sight- Cicero was surprisingly thick for a human. He was sure a lot of stretching would be required to fit that hunk of man inside him…!

“Ahh… there we are… much better…” Cicero teased, as he glanced down at the others soaking entrance, licking his lips to remember the small tase he had gotten.

An idea more fiendish than the last soon overtook him… that was a very sensitive area… and made for some nice slick lubrication as well.

Shifting himself over he slid his cock over the top of Nil’s crotch, letting the horny elf do the work for him.

“Fffuck…. Just…. Just do it already…! Come onnnn!” Nil begged, as the belt began to dig into already abused wrists- and the tugging alone made Cicero worry.

“Not yet… be patient…. And be mindful of your wounds my dear…” Cicero slid the tip of his cock, all the way to the base against the soaking slit of the other, but dared not to enter, “Don’t tear your stitches now…”

Nil growled, and twisted, a hiss leaving his throat as- expected of him- he popped a stitch, and the crimson flowed freely over his arm once more.

Most would cave and stop, when such an action occurred- but then again, most people were sane- in some form of the word… Cicero was far from. As a matter of fact- he took it as an invitation to more trusting- but deadly play.

“So… that’s how Listener wants to play…. Hmm?” a deep and menacing tone left his throat as he pressed his body hard and harsh against the other, taking the knife he’d held mere moments before, and slicing at the offending belt that held Nil’s hands.

It cut like butter, and Nil felt his arms go limp, and the blood flow returning to his hands once more. But little did he know, he was in for a real treat- or a nightmare. For with the sight of blood, in an already heightened state of ecstasy and lust, Cicero gave in to more dark and feral needs.

Flicking the blade between his fingers a moment, he gave the small sharpened weapon a lick, the edge cutting into his tongue and causing a hiss of satisfaction.

Pain. To feel pain meant you were still alive. You still breathed- and you could continue to live.

With another heated breath, he clashed their lips together, holding the blade close to Nil’s throat- and still the elf was not afraid. On the contrary- it was thrilling. Copper laced his lips in an odd taste of saliva, blood, and whatever the hell the remnant was- as the coolness of the blade barely pierced his throat- cool and deadly like the night- and sharp as he was.

Cicero rolled his hips against the other this time, the sweet elixir flowing over the base of his stomach and giving a heated glow to his cheeks. He wanted more… Cicero was a patient man! A dedicated and loving servant…. But now he gave in to temptation.

Pulling the blade away from Nil’s throat he admired the scene before him. Bits of blood laced the furs of the bed as well as his lover beneath him- Nil looked like a sacrifice himself,”

“Almost… just one more thing…” Cicero purred as he slammed the dagger into the bed, leaving the handle to be the only thing to show.

Nil watched as the jester dipped a finger deep inside him, moving his fingers and stretching the insides. He’d been so heated by the previous play, he could only writhe as the instruments of silent death, now performed a song of their own deep within himself. With each thrust and motion of those digits, the elf could only moan-

“One more…! Please, another! By Sithis- Cicero! Fuck, let me have more!” and the pleas and begging were better than any form of torture the other had performed- and felt all too real. 

That was when he’d had enough.

Dragging the other to his hips he bunched some of the furs beneath his partner’s rear, so as to get better elevation. Surprisingly, the head of his cock slid in with ease, the foreplay having soaked the other. He was met with resistance about half way- and had to take slow breaths to keep pace and stretch the other in preparation.

Once he was seated to the base, the other could barely keep a mindful head, the elf beneath him squeezing his cock in ways he’d only felt when he was a young man. Even then, that was pushing it….

With a thrust of the hips, Nil signaled he was ready, and Cicero wasted no time.

He gripped Nil’s hips as tightly as he could, pulling them towards him with every thrust. His fingers dug into thighs hard enough to bruise- and Nil loved every second of it. Moaning like a tavern whore, as the Jester gave him everything he’d pent up for the last moments of play.

Nil reached up, gripping hair and clashing lips together hard enough to clank teeth, and not care. He bit the others lip to taste the sweet copper once more, and even then he knew Cicero loved it. A sort of Sado-machochism that could only be properly described as a blessing loved by children of Sithis. In their dark, and lustful play.

Cicero’s usual high and scratchy voice was replaced by dark throaty moans, and growls- as if the beast inside him came to surface that had long since been kept leashed. The way his back arched, and helped to drove his body deeper to the other was a wonder in its own, and with each passing moment, he seemed to get just a bit more desperate.

“Mine… Mine… Listener is Cicero’s~ A lovely treasure just for me, as all in Mother’s circle see…” he recited a dark rhyme to himself as he began to play himself into the other a lot harder, feeling himself close to climax.

Nil bit onto Cicero’s shoulder hard, and gripped onto his back in desperate eagerness. He was close as well. 

With a few more good thrusts, Cicero came, making sure to fill his partner with everything he had. But that wasn’t the end of it, as he knew the other hadn't cum-and so he gripped the thighs of the other and tugged them close to him, dipping his head between their legs, and latching on to the bud between the sweet folds of his lover.

Nil could only gasp and scream as Cicero finished what he started. Flicking his tongue along the bud, and dipping his tongue inside the Listener- he cared not for the taste of himself, but the melody of the other’s voice in his ears.

Mother wouldn’t talk to Cicero…. But the Listener will.

Nil gripped Cicero’s hair once more and grinded into his face, the moans more desperate as he called out Cicero’s name.

Yes… yes! Need Cicero… all for Cicero… Cicero will care for all your aches dear Listener… Cicero will love you as he does Mother- but in a different manner.

With desperate pleas for the other to stop Nil came, and Cicero only ceased once he’d lapped up every bit of slick fluid his mouth could find.

Then there was silence once more. Nothing but the soft panting of breath, as Cicero hovered over the lover beneath him, and the young elf clung to the other with all their might- foreheads pressed together in a moment of want- no… need…. To be together.

Rolling to the side, Cicero scooped up the other into his arms and held him there, taking in the sweet smell of their sex, and natural musk. He loved every second of it.

“Can… Cicero sleep with Nil tonight?” he asked, a sleepy tone to his voice as he cuddled a bit deeper into his lover- the beast now sedated inside him.

No response.

For a moment Cicero wondered if he’d overstepped his boundaries- that is, until he was met with the soft snoring of his listener- head tucked into the crook of his arm. He was amazed to find the other’s bleeding had stopped with his injured arm, but none the less… it would need to be redressed in the morning.

With a careful smile, Cicero nodded. He wouldn’t mind if the other slept there- he was sure of it! 

As Cicero settled down for a good night’s sleep, he gripped the dagger he’d previously drove into the bed and slung it across the room, hitting the target in the bulls eye.

Perfect, as always.


End file.
